


The Art Project

by httpsawesome



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Bi Grantaire, F/M, Gay Enjolras, Grantaire is a very tactile friend, Grantaire's mom has a shopping addiction bc im weird, M/M, Pining, Texting, to everyone he thinks wont mind it (so not enjolras), very touchy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-27
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2019-01-23 21:57:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,534
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12517456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/httpsawesome/pseuds/httpsawesome
Summary: “They actually used the term ‘join masses’.” Combeferre looks off of a piece of paper he has. “They sound like interesting freshmen.”“Isn’t joining masses a euphemism for when two pirates love each other very much -“Enjolras interrupts him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Listen, I just got back into les mis like, this week, so this is rather new for me. Ive never read the book and I havent watched the movie since 2013 but im trying very hard to stay in character. 
> 
> Honeslty, this is fanfiction of a fanfiction. World Ain't Ready by idiopathicsmile is the best fanfic I've ever read and if you havent read it, you should. This is 100% inspired by that.
> 
> LoveThoseBooks - Jehan  
> fishface - Feuilly  
> RRRR - Grantaire  
> Enjolgay - Enjolras
> 
> Thank you for reading!

“This assignment will count as three test grades.” His art teacher starts, and the class groans. Grantaire feels his blood turn to ice and stomach drop. “Don’t act surprised that you’re hearing this, it’s in the syllabus.” She says, turned away from his surprised face.

She started writing on the whiteboard, frequently changing the colors of the markers as she goes down the list. “It needs to be a series of 2-3 portraits. Any medium. Must be connected in some way. The theme is ‘abstract photorealism’. “

_That’s so fucking vague what does that mean -_

“You can think of this as a sort of final.” She rounds to them again. “Because it technically is.”

He’s been in her class for the entire semester so he knows the instructions aren’t going to get any less vague. Some students started murmuring to each other to get ideas, or brought out their artbooks to start a rough sketch, and very few seemed as lost for ideas as he is at that moment.

“Due at the end of the year, of course.” She says, as if three months is incredibly far away.

He thinks he understands. . . something about what he wants to do. He needs to make a photorealistic picture of something, but the emotion behind it is abstract?

He puts on his earphones and zones out for the rest of class, staring at his blank sketchbook. Nothing comes to mind.

If he fails this assignment he's going to feel worse about himself than he usually does, which is saying a lot.

 

After the bell rings, he meets Jehan waiting for him. “Hey Je - that sweater is hideous.”

He’s never been called sensitive to other people’s feelings before but if he could have held back his gut reaction, he would have.

Instead, Jehan just beams. “I know!”

It was already incredibly worn out - stretched so it almost reached his knees. It was a musty shade of black with misshapen sunflowers scattered randomly. Fortunately, it doesn’t smell as old as it looks.

“I found it at the thrift store yesterday. It feels perfect for the weather.” They had just gotten their first chill in the air, but Grantaire wasn’t going to stop his love for sweater weather.

“I hope you didn’t pay more than a dollar for it.”

“It was a quarter.” He waved his arm wildly while he talked, which is unusual for him. “It was a steal.”

Grantaire realizes he was doing it just so he could gesture with his floppy sleeves. This kid is amazing. “I can’t believe you would steal from a thrift store. That’s a special brand of evil.”

They start walking their route to the ABC. They stop at the end of the hall to add Courfeyrac to the train as he exits Spanish, and he latches onto Jehan with his own brand of glee. He is more accustomed to his awful sweater than Grantaire was. “At least it isn’t Halloween themed.”

“Those are in the back of my closet.” He says. “It’s not quite pumpkin-y enough to break those out.”

They round a corner that is a slightly less straightforward way to get to the classroom to grab Cosette from her locker, and she casually connects herself to Grantaire’s elbow as they walk on. Usually, she will do the friendly thing and ask about his day, his classes, or she will politely complain about some racist shit she heard in pre-calculus.

Instead, she looks at him gently and asks, “Something on your mind?”

_Yes, I’m lost in yet another class except it’s one I’m supposed to be good at and I don’t know how to handle it._

“School shit.” He says instead. “Just stressin’ me out.”

She nods gently. “If you want to talk about it, I’ll listen.”

He’s been attending the meetings for a month, Jehan invited him and also invited him on his walkthrough to make sure he wouldn’t be late. He considers them all his dear friends, but sometimes he his smacked in the face when they reveal that they value him as a friend too. Like a full on smack. It will probably sting in the morning.

He grins, sincerely. “As long as you don’t mind me cursing out my teachers obsessively.”

She shrugged and said. “Fuck them” which sounds incredibly hilarious coming from her high pitched, gentle voice, but what was funnier is Courfeyrac being so shocked at the vulgarity that he whips his head to stare at her with doe eyes.

 

They arrived at the ABC and Grantaire knew the drill - It’s Monday. They’re going to debate over topics to further discuss for the rest of the week. Most likely do something about it, like write a letter to the senator (mostly useless, but he likes to call them an asshole on paper) or call a representative to try and get them to change their vote (less useless, and it’s more fun to call them an asshole with your voice).

He hopes they’re talking about a topic he knows, so he can interject with actual opinions. Or at least have more opportunities to use sarcasm.

Enjolras isn’t going to like him very much today, but that’s not anything new.

He sits between Jehan and the corner as Combeferre starts up a headcount. Everyone but Feuilly it looks like, which isn’t unusual. He usually doesn’t make it the meetings on Mondays, since the yogurt shop he works at can’t survive without him at the beginning of the week.

Who the fuck is getting yogurt at the beginning of the week anyway? Grantaire thinks that if he got yogurt on a Monday afternoon every week, he would develop an ulcer.

He would also most likely die, but whatever.

Combeferre starts the conversation when they all settle down, “Today is going to be a bit different,” he has a way of talking like a teacher that can actually hold the attention of 15-18 year olds.

“Are we going on a field trip?” He asked, in a playfully hopeful tone.

“Good question.” Combeferre said, which was probably a lie. “Actually, the Green Club wants us to join them this Friday to help them plant flowers in Washington Park.”

“It is a field trip!” He shook with childish glee. A few of them laughed.

“Why do they want us?” Marius asked.

Enjolras took over for Combeferre. He already had an underlayer of annoyance present on his face. “The school won’t approve of the trip because of how few upperclassmen there are in the green club, and they need more students.”

“Because freshmen don’t count as students.”

“They’re worried that the freshmen aren’t ‘responsible enough’ to go by themselves.” He used air-quotes, and this is one of those rare moments that Enjolras acknowledges something Grantaire says in a positive tone. He just rewords it to sound smart, and responsible.

Grantaire, of course, makes a joke. “You know it’s serious when he has to break out the air-quotes.”

“They actually used the term ‘join masses’.” Combeferre looks off of a piece of paper he has. “They sound like interesting freshmen.”

“Isn’t joining masses a euphemism for when two pirates love each other very much -“

 Enjolras interrupts him. “They also emphasized how much flowers they have to plant, so we will have to get our hands dirty - “ he apparently realizes the Grantaire potential of that statement and quickly switches gears “we will have to work just as hard as them.”

“Awh, you don’t like the thought of getting your hands dirty with us?” He pouted, and the members of the group that have the sense of humor of a twelve-year-old giggled, which were everyone but Enjolras, Combeferre, and Cosette.

No wait, Cosette just coughed suspiciously and hid her face. She must be thirteen.

“What would we plant, since it’s the beginning of fall and all?” Joly asked, as the official, non-official note taker. It wasn’t a job assigned to him - he just loves to take notes. It’s obvious that he’s excited about this idea, since he was tapping his pen to a rhythm and had a tight grip on his cane. He’s ready to plant some damn flowers.

Isn’t he allergic to grass, though? Grantaire will have to ask him about it later.

“There’s plants that do better in the fall, but all of them will be up to the green club to decide.” Combeferre answered smartly.

“I think we should be able to choose what we plant whatever we want.” Grantaire argues. “I want to plant some eggs.”

“Wait, what?” Musichetta looks at him confusedly.

“I want to get some eggplants.”

He is rightly booed for his comedy crimes.

“Are we ready to vote on this?” Bahoral asks. “Because I vote yes. Gardening sounds like a better way to spend my Friday.”

“Show of hands.” Enjolras announces.

Everyone raised their hands with no hesitation, including Grantaire.

They didn’t talk about much else, just preparations for the trip, but by the end of the meeting when they were all excused, Enjolras did look at him in the face and send a tired smile.

“Thanks for voting yes.” He said.

Small talk. He can do small talk. “It sounded like fun.”

They both look incredibly unused to the small talk that was currently happening, but Grantaire can take awkwardness from Enjolras if it means he didn’t actually get mad at any of his stupid comments.

Enjolras’ eye’s crinkled at his comment. “Do you take anything we do here seriously?”

Spoke too soon.

He thought of another sarcastic comment, or deflection, or anything, but the only thing on his mind is the stupid assignment and how much he wants to sleep.

“I would love to have an argument with you like we usually do, but I really, truly do not have the emotional energy for it right now.” And that might have been too sincere, too serious, and too harsh but he tried not to care about it.

He cares too much by how taken aback Enjolras looks.

“I’ll see you on Wednesday.”

 

He went to bed shockingly early on Monday, and he woke up at 3:36 on Tuesday morning with nothing to do for many hours. Trying to go back to sleep is useless, getting up so early isn’t viable because if he makes too much noise he’ll just wake up his mom.

He doesn’t move from his bed for two hours, doesn’t even unplug his phone, but around six he gets a notification from the group chat.

 **LoveThoseBooks:** @fishface what do u mean u cant make it to the wensday meeting???

 **fishface:** I gots work I need money (also srry :( )

Grantaire opened the chat.

 **RRRR:** Feuilly u go get that money the more money u make the more yogurt u can buy me

 **fishface:** 1) thats not how it works

 **fishface:** 2) arent u lactose intolerant?

 **RRRR:** so if i was starving and the only food around was yogurt u wouldn’t buy me any?

 **LoveThoseBooks:** Feuilly if u buy him yogurt im killing u

 **fishface:** IM NOT BUYING HIM YOGURT

 **fishface:** what r u two nerds doing up anyway?

 **RRRR:** yeah jehan what r u doing awake?

 **LoveThoseBooks:** oh I see how it is

 **LoveThoseBooks:** i try to save your toilet from u

 **LoveThoseBooks:** and u throw me under the bus

 **RRRR:** gross

 **LoveThoseBooks:** its your body not mine

 **fishface:** I just love how neither of u managed to answer my question

 **RRRR:** we could ask u the same question. what r u doing awake?????

 **fishface:** i don’t actually live in the school district so I have to wake up at 5 to have enough time to get to school on time.

 **RRRR:** holy fucking shit

 **fishface:** u didn’t know that?

 **LoveThoseBooks:** WHY DIDN’T U EVER TELL ME THIS BEFORE U SHOULD HAVE TO WAKE UP SO EARLY

 **LoveThoseBooks:** I NEVER KNEW THIS EITHER U NEVER SAID IT BEFORE

 **fishface:** ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 **RRRR:** also I just noticed y is your name fishface now?

 **fishface:** joly changed my name to this and I haven’t changed it back yet

 **RRRR:** r u ever going to change it back?

 **fishface:** ill change it if u finally answer me as to why u two r awake

 **RRRR:** oh shit

 **LoveThoseBooks:** dat curve doe

 **fishface:** stop avoiding the question!!

 **LoveThoseBooks:** my neighbor started mowing his lawn like right b4 u texted me first so im just awake but not alive rn

 **RRRR:** that fuckinf sucks u should murder him

 **RRRR:** I woke up like 2 hours ago and just couldn’t go back to sleep lol

 **fishface:** u best have some coffee or u crashing

                **fishface** changed their name to **canubringmesometoo?**

 **RRRR:** lolllllll sure thing

 **LoveThoseBooks:** if I murder him like u asked can I get some 2?

 **RRRR:** ill sneak it into your prision

 

At seven, after Grantaire had eaten breakfast, gotten dressed, and taken his anti-depressents, he got another notification from the chat.

 **Enjolgay:** It’s seven in the morning why do I have ~30 notifications?

 **RRRR:** u just had to be there


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolgay: Just remember, this is still a meeting and we need to take it seriously.
> 
> RRRR: aye aye boss
> 
> Enjolgay: I’m not the boss of anyone in the ABC and I shouldn’t be looked at that way.
> 
> Grantaire typed out ‘ooo so in what way should i look at u ;)’ but backspaced and didn’t reply with anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> RRRR - Grantaire  
> cootiepatootie - Courfeyrac  
> SpaceCat - Joly  
> Enjolgay - Enjolras  
> Cassettetape - Cosette  
> LoveThoseBooks - Jehan  
> LegalEagle - (Bosseut) Lesgle  
> ballislyfe - Bahoral  
> canubringmesometoo? - Feuilly

He made sure to leave a post-it note to his mom telling her that he’s taking the card in the one place he’s sure she will see it - on the remote controller. He also makes sure to stop by the McDonald’s drive-thru before school because if they wanted good quality and ethical business practices they should have specified.

He gets Jehan a caramel macchiato, Feuilly an iced mocha, and himself a coke with a hashbrown, all small because he isn’t made of money. Thankfully, they have world history together for first period, so he only had to make one massive detour to give them their precious coffee.

It’s too early for Jehan to process words, but Grantaire did get a grunt of appreciation out of him, so he counts it as successful. Feuilly is a bit more alert, and he cradled his cheap plastic cup like it was the best gift he had ever received. “Thanks man,”

“Miss me with that ‘thanks man’ shit,” he said, momentarily forgetting he was in a classroom. He avoided looking at the teacher, maybe if he doesn’t make eye-contact he won’t get in trouble. “you thank me like a real man, and tell me you love me.”

“I love you, you glorious bastard.” Feuilly said, and Grantaire hot tailed it out of there to his own class.

It was hard to pay attention on this particular morning, so about ten minutes into his class he sent a DM to Courfeyrac, hoping for a distraction.

 **RRRR:** hey i have a cool idea

The teacher droned on about imaginary numbers or something. Or possibly geography? The voice of the teacher was grating and he never absorbed anything he said. It wasn’t long before Courfeyrac answered back.

 **cootiepatootie:** we r IN CLASS also what is it?

 **RRRR:** what if

 **RRRR:** we had the wednesday meeting - stay with me here

 **RRRR:** at feuillys work to surprise him

He hid his phone hidden under his notebook to appear more studious, occasionally putting his pencil to his paper and drawing a doodle of something. A cartoon heart, a feather, something mindless.

 **cootiepatootie:** THAT SOUNDS SO FUN I LOVE IT!!!!!

 **cootiepatootie:** i know it would cheer lovely Feuilly up since hes down that hes missing so many meetings

 **cootiepatootie:** his boss prob wont like it but as long as we arent distracting????

He drops the whole pretending to be paying attention thing when he remembers this is actually business management and he’s never payed attention in here before. Mr. Marsh or Harold or Dennis or whatever isn’t going to punish him.

 **RRRR:** you should ask enjolras about it

 **cootiepatootie:** but its your idea?????

 **RRRR:** he would like it better if he thinks u came up with it

 **RRRR:** less likely to turn it down

 **cootiepatootie:** bruh

 **cootiepatootie:** it sounds like youre scared of him

 **RRRR:** I dont want him to turn down my idea? excuse me for caring about feuilly more than u

 **cootiepatootie:** YOU TAKE THAT BACK GRANTAIRE

 **RRRR:** just ask him? pls? for meme?

 **RRRR:** I meant for me but also for memes?

 **cootiepatootie:** allright but im doing it for u, feuilly, AND for memes

 **cootiepatootie:** AND IM TELLING HIM IT WAS YOUR IDEA!

He’s left unbothered for two minutes, just long enough to consider taking notes, before Courfeyrac sends him another private message.

 **cootiepatootie:** he didnt like the idea but comb did so he changed his mind

                **cootiepatootie** made a new chat **Feuilly Please Don’t Look Inside**

 **cootiepatootie** invited you to **Feuilly Please Don’t Look Inside**

Feuilly is probably the only friend that would never look inside the chat, so it’s not as dumb of a move as it looks like.

 **cootiepatootie:** we r going to surprise feuilly at his job on wednesday for the meeting!!!!! it was all **@RRRR** s idea dont let him push the credit onto me

 **RRRR:** I had a good idea for once what can i say

 **SpaceCat:** you have many good ideas and I love them all.

 **RRRR:** aw shucks

 **RRRR:** <3

 **Enjolgay:** Just remember, this is still a meeting and we need to take it seriously.

 **RRRR:** aye aye boss

 **Enjolgay:** I’m not the boss of anyone in the ABC and I shouldn’t be looked at that way.

Grantaire typed out ‘ooo so in what way should i look at u ;)’ but backspaced and didn’t reply with anything.

 **Enjolgay:**?

Shit, he noticed. Oh wait, Cosette is typing something thank goodness.

 **Cassettetape:** Oh yay! :D :D also R u were going to say something?

Dammit.

 **RRRR:** I was just going to say something self deprecating like oh boy i cant wait to order yogurt to make my organs feel like my soul!

 **LoveThoseBooks:** youre not allowed to order yogurt or talk bad about yourself

 **RRRR:** u guys know how to make a guy feel loved <3

 **LegalEagle:** we should make a jar for you to put in a quarter every time u say something bad about urself

He ended it with a string of emojis that his phone translates as boxes.

 **RRRR:** how much money do u think I fuqking have

 **LegalEagle:** fuqking

 **LoveThoseBooks:** fuqking

 **cootiepatootie:** fuqking

 **RRRR:** I will lock myself in a room w u all and eat yogurt

 **ballislyfe:** fuqking

 **ballislyfe:** oh shi

 **RRRR:** who tf r u

 **ballislyfe:** it me

 **ballislyfe:** bahorel

 **RRRR:** do u even play basketball?

                **ballislyfe** changed their name to **ballisnotlyfe**

 **ballisnotlyfe:** r u happy

 **ballisnotlyfe:** fuqking

 **RRRR:** I hate everyone in this thread except joly

 **SpaceCat:** fuqking

 **RRRR:** the world is a cold dark place with no friends

 **Pasta:** bitch what about me?

 **Enjolgay:** Can everyone stop changing their name constantly? It’s getting hard to follow.

 **Pasta:** this is all joly’s fault. he said my name looked like a pasta.

 **SpaceCat:** I said I was sorry!!!!

 **LegalEagle:** to be fair, your name does look delicious ;)))))))))))

 **Pasta:** IT DOESN’T LOOK LIKE A PASTA!!!!!!!

His day went on almost entirely through the group chat. He went about ten minutes in each class trying to, but when he got lost or confused he felt like he couldn’t bounce back, he would shoot out a ‘anyone in this thread smoke weed?’ or ‘anyone ever notice that watkins looks like a human catus?’

The replies are always sporadic, in time and who replied, but he noticed that Enjolras always had something so say. Usually along the lines of ‘You shouldn’t joke about something like that’ or ‘You need to pay attention to your class’ but he always replied.

He tries not to think that it could mean anything. Enjolras barely tolerates him as a friend, this is probably just him being annoyed.

The fogginess of his brain eventually gets too much, especially since he hasn’t seen or talked with Eponine all day, he decides to skip lunch for a smoke.

_Speak of the devil. . ._

Eponine was sitting on the bathroom floor like it isn’t the dirtiest floor in the whole school, and that’s saying something since the janitorial staff is incredibly underpaid and unappreciated. He should send another thank you note to Sandra. . .

They were in the senior bathroom on the first floor, and as far as he considers it, it’s their bathroom. It only has three stalls instead of four, and two of them are without doors. The window above the end stall is permanently stuck open, so in the winter it’s freezing and in the summer, it’s a bug-magnet. It has also a weird, lingering smell that Grantaire was never able to identify.

No one enters besides them. It’s perfect.

“I haven’t seen you since,” he paused to think about it “Sunday.”

“Yeah, I skipped yesterday.” She said brought out her phone from her overstuffed messenger bag. “My phone’s been dead all day.”

“Explains why you weren’t active in the group chat either.” He reached into his under-stuffed drawstring bag and tossed her his charger.

“Sorry,” she said, not because she was sorry but because that was a thing that people said when they dropped off the face of the planet suddenly.

“I’m sorry.” He says because he feels horrible for not noticing her absence earlier.

She waved him off, ‘it’s okay you were an asshole’, her face said. If he worried about her every time she didn’t tell him where she gone off to he would have all gray hairs. It didn’t make him feel better.

He climbed on the toilet on the end stall, put his face as far out of the window as he could, and lit up a cigarette. He watched the seniors goof off on the football field as Eponine took out her lunch, a jar of maraschino cherries, and they sat together silently for many minutes. He was almost finished with his cigarette when Eponine drank the last drop of juice in the jar and broke the silence.

“Can I come by your house later today?” She still hadn’t gotten up from the disgusting floor.

“Sure,” because he never says no.

“Can I drink?” She’s gotten into the habit of asking ever since he started medication.

He should be a good friend and say no, or ask why she wants to drink, but he’s seen her parents, so he already knows why. It happens rarely enough that he knows something happened that she isn’t ever going to tell him.

“Sure,” he wets the butt of the cigarette and throws it in the trash. He could have thrown it out the window, but that’s littering (and making a trail to him) but if he just throws it in the trash immediately he could start a fire (which would also be a trail to him, but slightly worse). “I’ll bust out the video games.” Because she likes that.

 

She arrives at his house sometime in the evening with Gavroche and no alcohol, which is also a habit that she seems to be developing. She hasn’t drank since he stopped.

His mother answered the door. “Eponine! I haven’t seen you since,” she paused to think. “Sunday. Which is abnormally long now that I think about it.”

“It’s nice to see you too.” She puts on the insincere sweet smile that is slightly sincerer around his mom.

She kneels down slightly to look Gavroche in the eyes. “I haven’t seen you in a while either! How are you?”

“Good.” He says, slightly too loudly. “Have you been shopping lately?”

Her smile turned forced. “No, sadly, Grantaire took the card this morning.”

“Shame.” They enter and walk upstairs to Grantaire’s bedroom.

His room is the least cluttered room in the whole house, which is really something considering that it has dirty clothes everywhere and every book he owns is somewhere that is not the bookcase. The walls were also covered in art that Grantaire’s done, posters of bands that it looks like he would like, and random junk that looks cool (his favorite is Robert, the crushed plastic skull wearing a hat).

“Stop taking the card right before I arrive.” Gavroche, the little shit says as soon as he walks in.

“Fuck off, I’ll do whatever I want.” He starts hooking up the PlayStation to his TV. “We still have rice crispies in the garage. Hey, hey!” He exclaimed as Gavroche was about to leave. “What’s the rule?”

“I can take anything I want but the art supplies?” He supplied like a well-behaved child for once in his life.

“Nice. Now go.”

As soon as he left Eponine asked “Did she really not shop today?”

He felt the stress in his shoulders build up slightly. “First package from Amazon will arrive in a week.”

She nodded but didn’t comment further.

They knew that they had at least an hour, possibly more, just between themselves while Gavroche pillages his snacks and explores his garage. Grantaire had spent a week of his summer vacation organizing it, so instead of looking like a nightmare from Hoarders it looked like the garages from the other mediocre reality-tv show about the coupons. His mother has a problem with shopping you could say, and while it used to be a lot worse, it still isn’t something that he likes to share with people. Gavroche is less embarrassed about it than he is because he gets free shit out of it.

Gavroche and Eponine are actually the only friends of his that’s been inside his house - every room in the house has way too many knickknacks that he couldn’t convince his mom to give away, so he would rather just have it never be seen then explain why he has so much shit.

He found himself laying on the floor, watching Eponine play Fallout: New Vegas for thirty minutes in complete silence. She was being chased by knife-wielding grandmothers.

“How did this happen?” He asked.

“Honestly? Not sure.” She said. “I’m pretty sure I have wild west turned off.”

He nodded, not understanding anything.

“Why are you so weirdly silent tonight?” She turned to him as she died on screen.

“I’ve just been thinking about things that give me anxiety and staring into the void.” It’s easy to be way too honest with Eponine. He was thinking of every abstract way he could draw a duck, but it wasn’t working out like he hoped it would.

“Well, stop doing that.” She started up again, and made her way to some Elvis guys. “Just ask questions to get your mind off of it.”

“Okay.” He thought of the first question that came to mind. “Wanna come to the next ABC meeting?” he instantly regretted it.

She sometimes comes with him, rarely, but only if she’s in such a bad mood that she wants to hangout as soon as possible. She always spends the meeting drawing on his arm and trying desperately to avoid looking at the table where Cosette and Marius are sitting together.

“Is it going to be particularly interesting?”

“We’re going to ambush Feuilly’s work and have the meeting there.”

“You’ll have to drive me there.” She took her hat off so she could talk to her badass robot dog she now has. This game is weird.

“Will it be too much?” He was referring to her crush on Marius.

She shrugged. “I can deal. Plus, someone will have to stop you from eating yogurt just because everyone around you is.”

He made a noise of indigence that no one trusts him to make the right decision when it comes to dairy products, but that wasn’t a question, so he instead asks. “And do you want to come with us to the park on Friday too?”

“You’ll have to drive me there.”

“It’s a field trip. It’ll be on the bus.”

“Then sure.” She successively convinced a homeless guy to go into (or return?) to a life of prostitution.

“Will _that_ be too much?”

“I guess we’re going to find out.”

He felt his phone vibrate and he saw a notification in the groupchat.

                **canubringmesometoo?** changed their name to **stopignoringme**

 **stopignoringme:** if u are going to make a chat im not allowed in can u at least not leave the main chat dead?

None of these presented as a question, so he asked “How long have you had a crush on Marius?” he must be getting tired, since he can’t stop with the personal questions.

She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think it was one of those moments where I didn’t realize I had a crush on him until it was too late. When he was dating Cosette.”

His phone was vibrating wildly, so he turned it on silent. “You weren’t even friends though.”

“Not a question.” How can someone let their heart be out in the open like this when they’re about to have sex with a robot named Fisto?

“Were you even friends?”

“I was friends with Cosette. I knew of Marius before they started dating.” That didn’t sound like a statement she believed fully.

Gavroche came back with a family sized box of rice-crispie treats he had already finished half of and green plushie of bacteria. “I want this.” He always has his own way of asking permission for stuff even though he’s allowed to have it, possibly as a by-product of their parents.

“Remember the rule.” He has his own way of saying yes to anything Gavroche asks for, and the rest of the night went by seamlessly. He made sure to take his anti-depressants before bed and not on an empty stomach, but he’s sure his doctor wouldn’t recommend have a stomach filled with sugary cereal treats and not much else.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have the basic plot and all the art projects planned out, but everything leading up to it is just my feelings. Is turning Grantaire's mom into a shopping addict planned out or just my feelings? It's both! But I just felt the need to defend it since it's such a weird decision. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras nodded, and smiled, but it seemed more serious and less happy than usual. “I was thinking of talking about environmental issues, especially since we never focused on that before really.”
> 
> “Are we going to step on any toes in the green club?” Grantaire asked. “I don’t want any environmentally conscious freshmen to aggressively snap-dance me into an alleyway.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No beta, so excuse me for the mistake. I've been researching from fanon on the characters so hopefully I did a good job on finding some personality for each of them presented. The name of the yogurt shop is made up and it is supposed to sound dumb, so yay!
> 
> Also all the facts presented I did look up, and while some of them are estimates, they are at least in the ballpark of being right. I wanted to talk about something I had some knowledge in, since I was indeed one of those environmentally conscious freshmen that would snap-dance someone into an alley. Also, last paragraph was added since I forgot it. 
> 
> MyInternetHandle - Eponine  
> RRRR - Grantaire  
> cootiepatootie - Courf  
> Comb - Combeferre  
> LoveThoseBooks - Jehan  
> Enjolgay - Enjolras  
> stopignoringme - Feuilly  
> ballisnotlyfe - Bahorel  
> itsmeMarius - Marius

Grantaire ends up almost late to school after he drops Gavroche off at his middle school (in clean clothes, of course) and he made sure that Eponine has a fully charged phone AND his phone charger. She says thanks in her own special way.

“Fuck off,” she tries her hardest to slam the door, but he has a van, so the door doesn’t like to slam.

He realizes his mistake halfway through business management, because if he doesn’t have his phone charger on him, then it will die if he spends as much time on it as he did yesterday. The temptation becomes too much for him when Eponine logs onto the group chat.

 **MyInternetHandle:** any1 in this thread smoke weed?

 **cootiepatootie** : EPONINE UR BACK!!!!!!!!!

 **Comb:** Hey Eponine.

Sometimes he forgets that Combeferre has a soft spot for Eponine, which might be a crush, maybe, but then it becomes super obvious when he interacts with the chat _just_ to say hello to Eponine.

 **RRRR:** Combeferre i love u and i hope u never change

 **Comb:** Thank you?

 **MyInternetHandle:** anyway attention back to me.

 **LoveThoseBooks:** we haven’t seen u in a while!!!!!!!!!!! welcome back!!!!!

 **Enjolgay:** Nice to be hearing for you again!

 **stopignoringme:** whaddup

 **ballisnotlyfe:** dont pretend u cool

 **ballisnotlyfe** : thats a lie u the coolest (side mssg to ep: whaddup)

 **stopignoringme:** apology accepted

 **RRRR:** anyway attention back to me

 **itsmeMarius:** the attention wasnt on u to begin with? also hi ep!

 **RRRR:** WOW

 **LoveThoseBooks:** pffffttt

 **itsmeMarius:** I didn’t mean that in a bad way!!!!

 **Enjolgay:** He is pretty attention grabbing

 **RRRR:** I think that may have been the nicest thing u said about me

He swears on everything in him that he did not mean to hit send.

 **cootiepatootie:** nah uh he says nice things about u all the time!!!!!!

 **RRRR:** apparently on days which i dont show up

 **Enjolgay:** That is not the impression I wanted to give

 **Enjolgay:** :(

Holy shit, he made Enjolras use a frowny face. What kind of injustice did he commit?

 **cootiepatootie:** wait okay hold on

He receives a private message from Courfeyrac.

 **cootiepatootie:** it sounds like u think enj doesnt like u?

 **cootiepatootie:** which must be me forgetting how to read suddenly

 **cootiepatootie:** bc it doesnt make ANY SENSE

 **RRRR:** im srry to say this but i think u may have forgotten how to read, bc its rlly fucking obvious that he doesnt particularly like me

 **cootiepatootie:**???????????????????

 **cootiepatootie:**???!?!?!?!?!?!!!!!?!?!?!?

 **RRRR:** i didnt know this would cause an aneyrism

 **cootiepatootie:** im NOT EVEN going to make fun of your typos bc this has become serious

 **RRRR:** listen his like only hobby is arguing with me

 **cootiepatootie:** he just loves to argue!!!

 **RRRR:** yeah w u guys

 **RRRR:** w me he just

 **RRRR:** argues

 **cootiepatootie:** I think this calls for bringing out the big guns

 **RRRR:**?

His business management class had finished before he got a reply back - he had turned his phone on mute and tried his best to ignore the group chat and if anyone asked, it was not because he was afraid that Enjolras was going to publicly correct Courfeyrac in front of all of their mutual friends and say what is obvious fact. It’s just that if he was going to do that, he would rather not be present for it.

Eventually though, he did a notification directed at him.

                **cootiepatootie:** invited you into a private chat with **@Comb** and **@ballisnotlyfe**

He accepted the invitation with only little hesitation.

 **cootiepatootie:** this is an intervention

 **Comb:** Probably shouldn’t start it that way.

 **ballisnotlyfe:** what the fuck is happening

 **RRRR:** courf pls

 **cootiepatootie:** no!!! we r going to fix this!!!!!

 **cootiepatootie:** bc things suddenly make a weird amount of sense

 **RRRR:** told u

 **RRRR:** he doesnt like me

 **ballisnotlyfe:** but youre so charming

 **RRRR:** bahoral i love u 2 and i dont want u to change either

 **ballisnotlyfe:** damn right bsh

 **cootiepatootie:** stop being distracting!!!!!!!!

 **RRRR:** how do i be not distracting this is my intervention

 **ballisnotlyfe:** u kno how i hate to repeat myself but I still dk what this is about

 **cootiepatootie:** r thinks enjolras doesnt like him

 **RRRR:** I know he doesnt

 **ballisnotlyfe:** in case u havent noticed

 **ballisnotlyfe:** enj is beaituflly weird

 **ballisnotlyfe:** he likes u well enough

 **RRRR:** ‘well enough’

 **Comb:** Courfeyrac why did you assign the worst people for this conversation?

 **cootiepatootie:** in retrospect this isnt working as well as i thought it would

 **RRRR:** as much as i honestly hate this convo and the lack of truthfulness I gotta pay attention to my class

As soon as Grantaire says he needs to pay attention in class they know that he’s clocking out of the conversation. His mind wandered throughout all of his classes, and his art class made him feel _just peachy_ since he still only has a handful of rough sketches, none of them he feels particularly inspiring.

When school was over, he saw Eponine waiting by his van and remembered, oh yeah, it was Wednesday, and they were doing a nice thing for Feuilly. He can’t just leave him on radio silence. Feuilly doesn’t deserve that.

He doesn’t know the way to the yogurt shop by heart but Eponine apparently does (he assumes she looked it up and didn’t tell him so she would seem cooler, but at this point he doesn’t know) and they make good time. He sees Combeferre’s car with Courfeyrac sitting on it, so he assumes that Enjolras is there too. He’s proven right when he sees his hair through the passenger seat window as he talks passionately to Combeferre, and no, that’s not weird that he can identify him by his hair.

He would ignore them and sit in his car with Eponine until everyone else arrives, but Courfeyrac waves them over, and he guesses he’s going to have to have this uncomfortable conversation today and not like, 10 years from now.

Still though, it isn’t going to be that bad. His friends tend to make everything better as they make it worse.

“EPONINE!” Courfeyrac yells, and if this was a surprise it sounds like it’s not anymore, and he jumps off the hood and barrels towards them. He doesn’t hug her, but he does squeeze his arms around her shoulders for a brief second before continuing. “We haven’t seen you in a while! Some of us have started to really miss you!”

From the way his eyebrowed arched he assumed he was teasing someone. Probably Combeferre.

“Mmmhmm.” She says, but gives him a warm enough gaze. She’s never been accused of being amicable, but it’s hard to not like Courfeyrac.

He doesn’t see Combeferre get out of the car, but he’s just next to them now, giving Eponine as warm smile and a greeting. She gives him a mouth twitch, and Grantaire goes under his arms to give him a bear hug.

Combeferre is left with a confused look and he gives Courfeyrac the same hug, who takes it better. He actually hugs back and they’re all grinning.

“Nice to see you again, Eponine.” Enjolras says, quiet and charming.

“She’s here to keep me from making bad decisions.” He teases, and grins, but his arms stay by his side.

If Enjolras noticed the difference (let’s be honest, who wouldn’t?) Grantaire doesn’t look to see his reaction. Instead, he starts a conversation with “Anyone play that game where you come back from the dead to fuck a cowboy robot?”

Jehan, Joly, Bossuet, Musichetta, and Bahorel all arrive together in one tiny car, and watching them stumble out is significantly more amusing than watching clowns do the same thing. Joly drove and Musichetta sat shot gun, so they were saved from sitting three large teenagers in a two-seater.

Jehan comes out first wearing a jacket with a glittery, orange pumpkin on the back, and mismatching floral jeans. Bossuet and Bahorel come out with orange glitter all over them.

“Your head is catching the light in about seven new ways, my man.” Grantaire says, and he rubs a hand over Bossuet’s smooth head. Only a few pieces of glitter fall to the ground.

“It is useless to try and get rid of them. We have grown attached.” He accepts his fate with such grace. Joly comes up behind him and wraps an arm around his waist, and Musichetta comes up behind Joly to wrap her arm around his waist. It’s a big wrap-waist train going on.

“I’m going to name all mine Jubilee.” Bahorel says, in his deep voice.

“What if some of them are boys?” Grantaire asked.

“They will get named Jubilee and they will like it.” He crossed his muscular arms as if to prevent them from arguing.

“Plus, it’s not like names have a gender.” Jehan says. “They’re just sounds that define us as people.”

If Courfeyrac is hard to not like, then Jehan is hard to not love.

Grantaire gave him a lovely hug for that comment, and he made sure that he wrapped his arms completely around his skinny torso and he rubs the glitter pumpkin. When they separated, he rubbed the glitter on his face.

“How do I look?”

“Beautiful.” Courfeyrac said.

“Unoriginal.” Bahorel said.

“Fucking stupid.” Eponine said.

“I like it.” Jehan grinned amazingly. “It’s like if you had fire on your face. But safe fire.”

“That’s all you can really hope for.” Grantaire said, and he thinks he sees Enjolras smile at that, but if that happened at all it was probably directed at Jehan and not him.

Cosette and Marius arrive shortly after, together, and when they drive in Eponine steps slightly closer to Grantaire. He instinctively loops their elbows together while talking to Bahorel about if every individual piece of glitter can be gendered, and soon after that they finally step inside.

If he thought it was chilly outside, he’s worried he’s going to lose digits if he spends more than thirty minutes inside the shop. He's pretty sure they didn't need to keep it cold enough to keep the yogurt from freezing, but what does he know?

Feuilly didn’t notice any of them outside, even though there are enough windows to point out every single one of them, as he was too busy reading on the job. He was slumped over the counter, head on his elbow, ginger hair sweeping out. His bangs are long enough to hang off by a few inches.

At the ring of the bell he shoots up straight and adopts his customer service voice. “Welcome to The Cow’s Dairy how may I - oh hey guys!" He looked incredibly surprised and happy to see them.

“That cannot be the actual name of this place.” Grantaire deadpans. He’s never actually learned the name.

“Of course it is.” Enjolras says pointedly. “It’s a stupid, demeaning name. Perfect for a stupid, chain store.”

Grantaire can’t tell if he is joking, but he lets out a huff and smile, and surprisingly Enjolras doesn’t correct him or get angry. He just smiles back, softly, and Grantaire feels like he’s died and gone to heaven.

“What are you all doing here?” Feuilly smiled hugely and brightly, and Jehan was the first one to leap over the counter to hug him.

“We wanted to surprise you!” He was short enough that when he wrapped his noodly arms around Feuilly’s neck, he dragged him down slightly. “You’ve been missing a lot of meetings and we started missing you. It was R’s idea.”

“Way to sell a guy out.” He said, and got in line to hug Feuilly before he got in a line to get food. Everyone hugged him in their own unique way. Bossuet, Joly, and Musichetta gave a three-way hug, Bahorel gave a death grip, Cosette ended hers with a kiss on the cheek, Marius made even wrapping your arms around someone obscenely awkward, Courfeyrac was excited while Combeferre was sweet. Enjolras was gentle but cordial and caring. Eponine gave him a fist-bump.

Grantaire found himself last, and when he came to him Feuilly started it, and said “You’re the best, R, really.”

“Don’t thank me yet, we haven’t been approved by your boss.” But he couldn’t stop the real smile from creeping on. He gave a bear hug, arms under the pits, tight around the chest. His signature.

“I’m sure he’ll hate it.” When they broke apart he glanced down at the book. It was still open, but it was large enough that Grantaire thought it could have been asked to read it for school and not even bothered with the Wiki summary.

“Even when you’re not working, you’re working.” He says fondly.

“Take a break every once in a while!” Jehan yells motherly.

Courfeyrac repeats take a break in a sing-song voice, and Grantaire accepts it as a reference he isn't going to get, so he goes to walk beside Eponine to get nothing but tease her for everything she gets.

She gets something purple (“Holy shit, what flavor can that even be? Yogurt shouldn’t be purple.”) and dumps a bunch of crushed ‘cookies and cream’ topping (“They’re making money off of this, they couldn’t just buy the royalty? It's fucking oreos.”) and finally a bunch of ‘strawberry flavor poppers’ (“this is the worst. You’re the worst.”)

Even though he was last in the hug train, he still beats the grouplet to the end, since Joly likes to be the cute boyfriend that wants to make sure they all like the yogurt he gets so he can unnecessarily share with them, but they have wildly conflicting taste and it’s not working.

“You’re not getting anything?” Feuilly asks.

“He is not!” Many people yell.

Grantaire tilts his head. “Not allowed.”

“Hold on.” He says, and he goes down the line with a to-go cup. He doesn’t take long, and he comes back with it overflowing with gummy bears.

“Dude,” Grantaire says, because he shouldn’t feel so surprised that his friend remembered that he loves gummy bears, completely unprompted. He feels his chest fill with appreciation.

“And I’m not going to make you pay for it, because that feels cruel since to-go is a two-dollar upcharge and it’s not even a dollar worth of bears.” Feuilly, bless his heart, is so kind.

Grantaire thanks him by planting a messy, disgustingly loud kiss on his cheek. He had to lift himself with his arms to reach him, since Feuilly is almost 6’0 and even Jehan is taller than him at 5’5. When they departed, Feuilly had glitter on his face.

“Can you pay for this before it melts?” Eponine asks.

“Of course I can.” And, only because he’s Grantaire, he gives her a kiss too.

“Do that again and I will kill you.” She has glitter and a fake scowl on.

“Love you too.” They leave the counter, and he doesn’t notice Enjolras sit in a chair extremely roughly and way too quickly.

Combeferre called them for attention. “Joly, ready for notes?”

“Psh, of course.” He scoffed. He already had his notebook out, and Musichetta had supplied a pencil and a smooch. “I would never miss the pre-gaming for a field trip.”

Enjolras nodded, and smiled, but it seemed more serious and less happy than usual. “I was thinking of talking about environmental issues, especially since we never focused on that before really.”

Marius beamed up from where he was sitting with Cosette, since he liked this subject a lot, and Eponine already had his sleeve rolled up and he felt the gentle pressure of a pen on his skin.

“Are we going to step on any toes in the green club?” Grantaire asked. “I don’t want any environmentally conscious freshmen to aggressively snap-dance me into an alleyway.”

“We would work together, of course.” Combeferre says gently.

“The idea has been brought up of a school wide recycling program.” Enjolras says, and Marius fist-bumps the sky, as that was his idea. Eponine draws something on the ticklish part of Grantaire’s elbow. “We throw away thousands of sheets of paper, and if we can convince the school to put recycling bins in each classroom, it would help a great deal.”

“That’s all nice and dandy an’ all,” Grantaire started, since he knew more about how much the US waste a year than he would strictly like, but it’s not like he was going to tell Marius to stop talking when he got started on his thing. “but when a majority of waste is produced by big corporations and we account for less than 1%, what difference does an individual make?”

“Do you recycle?” Cosette asks, like she would be surprised and hurt if he says no.

“Me and my bins have a causal relationship, and I do cut up the plastic rings that come with cans because I don’t like the idea of sad turtles, but stuff like that isn’t putting a stop in how quick we are ruining the Earth.”

Enjolras bristled. “In case you haven’t noticed, but an _entire_ school is more than an individual! Do you know exactly how much paper we throw away in a year?”

“I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”

“Approximately 360,000 sheets a year!” Enjolras says, and if anyone else says a statistic at him, he would assume they pulled it out of their ass, but he knows that Enjolras probably has a source that he can provide if he’s asked. “Plus, an individual can always make a difference.”

He waves off the idealism presented before him. “Have I ever told you how impressed I am of your power to have statistics sitting right in front of your brain, at all times?” Which is true, but he usually doesn’t say the true things he thinks of Enjolras to his face. As often as it happens, he never likes being shut down when he isn’t arguing.

But even that seems to rattle him because he hesitated. He never hesitates. Grantaire uses this as an excuse to keep talking and hopefully stopping him from dueling on what he said.

“And while I sit here corrected, and I'll give you points for convincing me that it could help somewhat, we know the school will not approve anything if it takes a lot of effort and doesn’t make them money.”

“It would actually save the school money at the end of the year if they recycle even half of what they can, which involves more than just paper.” Enjolras seemed to be back on track. “The first year it might not bring in a profit - “

“Ah, dear Enjolras, if it cost any money at all they will not want to put aside time and energy. Remember when they stopped buying paper towels once a month just to save money?” It was true. Jehan had brought up that the bathrooms have frequently been without paper towels and Joly, even though he refuses to step into a single school bathroom for fear it would kill him, had heard from one of the janitors that they only receive a resupply every three months now.

It had been brought up at one of their meetings, some months ago, so the look of surprise that briefly graced Enjolras’ face must be him not expecting Grantaire to have been paying attention at the time. Which, yes, he jokes around a lot. He lets his mind wander whenever he isn’t participating in an argument. He famously has a hard time paying attention to most things, but he always tries to listen to his friends.

It shouldn’t sting to have Enjolras look like that, but it does. “I do remember things, from time to time. I try to make it a habit.”

“Yes, of course.” He looks away for that, as if composing himself, before looking back. “But you can’t just write off an idea just because you think it won’t even be accepted.”

“It’s a free country.” Eponine had finished on one side of his arm, and she twisted it so she can cover the other side. It made it so she had to be slightly closer than before, so Grantaire used it as an opportunity to lay his head on her shoulder. She leaned back into him, all domestic, but when her nose touched his beanie she gagged and detached herself, as if he burned.

It was all very sudden. Everyone’s eyes turned to them, even Feuilly got momentarily distracted from serving a customer, as she ripped the beanie off of his head. She pinched it with two fingers like it was a dirty tissue.

“Wash that.” She threw it on the table. It didn’t take long before she noticed everyone staring, so she made intense eye-contact with each individual until they got uncomfortable and looked away. Her eyes glazed over the table that Cosette and Marius were sitting at.

“What are you talking about?” He asked, trying to remain casual. “It doesn’t smell that bad - “ he picked it up held it up to his nose - it felt like it was assaulted by what he could only call ‘Extreme Musk’. It smelt like it came from a time period before the invention of soap.

He threw it back down and this time is skidded across the table and landed on the floor across from them. “I need to wash that.”

This got a few giggles from the group.

Grantaire continued. “I don’t smell like that, do I?”

“I don’t know. How would I know -“ she started, but Grantaire frantically shook his hair so it force the smell into the air and make her check for him. “No, you smell fine. Stop shaking before I’m forced to compare you to a dog.”

He did, and he felt his curls settle back into place a moment later. They like to take their time.

He looks back at Enjolras, and he _knows_ he was staring by how swiftly he looks away. Combeferre took over, because they have settled on whenever Enjolras gets too angry to speak Combeferre is the one that can translate his thoughts the best, but Grantaire can’t tell what he did this time to make him so angry.

Arguing with Combeferre isn’t as fun, since its more like debating, and Combeferre doesn’t get annoyed with him, so he doesn’t have much else to say. Marius contributes a lot today, so does Courfeyrac (who had sat next to Jehan and is the next to get covered in glitter) but Enjolras seems to be talked out for a good chunk for the meeting.

Eponine gets a text about 20 minutes before the meeting is usually over and she whispers in his ear “Gavroche is down with his weird skateboarding club” so he says his goodbyes and they leave before it’s officially done.

He’s at a stop sign on his way to the middle school when his phone vibrates.

 **cootiepatootie:** Enj we need to talk NOW

The message is only there for a few moments before it’s replaced with _[deleted message]_ so Grantaire assumes that Enjolras is ignoring Courfeyrac trying to have an emotional conversation with him. The only thing he can hope for is that he doesn’t try to bring him in for the stupid intervention thing.

 

Eponine makes it back to his house without Gavroche, and while the playstation loads she asks “Do you want to talk about what got you all pissy after the get-together?”

It’s only eight but he’s already wiped out. “Do you want to talk about your feelings about the meeting?”

She lets out a ‘hmm’ which is code for fuck no.

“Can you play that game I don’t understand?”

She doesn’t answer, but he does hear the foreboding music of it eventually, so he sends her a tired grin.

 

Hours later, Grantaire was almost asleep when Eponine asked "Where's your beanie?" 

"Huh?" He mumbled. He saw her at the foot of the staircase with arms full of her clothes. 

"I'm doing some laundry. Where's your beanie?" 

He reached for his hair without thinking, but when he only grabbed a fistful of curls he got confused. Then he remembered. 

"Fuck, I left it at the yogurt place." 

"Damn shame." Eponine clicked her tongue and left. He went to sleep shortly after. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! If you liked it, leave a comment?


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are the personality traits of Irises?” Grantaire is running out of room to plant the flowers, so he assumes he’s also running out of bulbs.
> 
> “Well Irises have a link to Greek mythology. Female messenger goddess of Hera. Goddess of the rainbow.”
> 
> “So she’s gay as fuck.” He nodded. “Respect.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit this got long and late. This is 9 pages and almost 4000 words and I didn't even finish what I had planned for this chapter! I'm publishing it early bc I don't want to get too behind. 
> 
> RRRR - Grantaire   
> stopignoringme - Feuilly  
> ballisnotlyfe - bahorel  
> Enjolgay - Enjolras

**RRRR** sent a private message to **stopignoringme**

**RRRR:** I left my beanie where u work do u have it? its my fave I want it back

**stopignoringme:** oh nah

**RRRR:** y do u hurt me so?

**stopignoringme:** one of us grabbed it but I got distracted by a customer

**stopignoringme:** but bahorel dared everyone to smell it so he could have it

**RRRR:**  oh god pls tell me ur joking

**stopignoringme:**. . .

**stopignoringme:** u know u need to wash your hats as often as u wash clothes right?

**RRRR:** I DONT WANNA HEAR IT but ty

**RRRR** sent a private message to **ballisnotlyfe**

**RRRR:** I hear u grabbed my beanie yesterday?

**ballisnotlyfe:** yeah and ive never regretted anything so strongly b4

**RRRR:** I dont need u judging me

**RRRR:** can i get it back? its my fave

**ballisnotlyfe:** enj has it

**RRRR:** y dont u have it???

**ballisnotlyfe:** im not going to put that in my HOME

**ballisnotlyfe:** where I LIVE

**RRRR:** I hate u

**RRRR** sent a private message to **Enjolgay**

**RRRR:** so

**Enjolgay:** So?

**RRRR:** I hear u have my beanie

**Enjolgay:** Oh yeah! I do

**RRRR:** so

**Enjolgay:** I also washed it for you. I probably should have asked before I did it but I hope you don’t mind?

**RRRR:** it smelt like shit so i cant complain can i

**Enjolgay:** I assume you want it back to you ASAP?

**RRRR:** well i mean its just a hat

**RRRR:** i have others

**Enjolgay:** So do you want to meet up sometime today so I can get it back to you? After school maybe?

**RRRR:** well we dont have to do all that

**RRRR:**  i dont want to be responsible for the great leader getting distracted and not finishing a speech or smth

**Enjolgay:** It’s no trouble

**RRRR:** can u bring w u to the meeting on friday? so its not out of the way

**Enjolgay:** Okay

**Enjolgay:** :)

 

Thursday rolled by in such a blur that he wasn’t sure if actually lived through it. He remembers that Eponine stayed over another night and promised to stay for Friday (should he be worried? Probably. But if he got into the business of worrying about her she would stop coming over and it would just make everything worse.).

He remembers that he opened the fridge to just orange juice and when he made plans to go to the store Friday, his mother interjected and said, “I can do it!” even though they both knew that she routinely has trouble shopping for things that don’t interest her. He checked the see what she ordered online when he took the card last week and saw that it started innocently, by ordering a book he had mentioned that he needed to have for English and it devolved into ordering a case of discontinued soda from the 90’s for thirty bucks, and a bunch of sweatshirts she thought he might need for the weather.

He remembers to change the password to the Amazon account for her.

He remembers having a test in business management that made him skip lunch for a smoke break again. He remembers spending an hour on the punching bag stand because he got so tense and he was told exercise will help. Eponine was in charge of the songs and played a lot of angry riot girl music that he didn’t listen to but instead Felt.

Strangely, he didn’t remember that Friday was anything different than usual. He was on the way to class when Eponine dragged him to the bus parking lot.

“Wait what the - “ he started “Oh yeah. The field trip.”

“You’re an idiot sometimes.” Eponine says, which for her it sounds fond. “I also gave your teacher the note that excuses you.”

“Oh thank God.” Because he had forgotten to even grab one.

There was a good gathering of kids already out there, making a nice fog in this chilly weather. There were a lot more green club kids just present than the entirety of the ABC, and kids is absolutely the correct word to use because _so many_ of them are freshmen.

“They’re so _small_.” Grantaire whispered to Eponine. He didn’t feel that small when he was a freshman. Are they sure they’re not a bunch of elementary students who snuck in?

“Hmm.” She murmurs in agreement. “Can I use your headphones?”

“Sure.” He hands her his well-worn pair with one of them missing the soft plastic bit. “Do you want to sit with me?”

She shrugged her shoulders and looked down, and he noticed she was wearing one of his hoodies. Dark green, with some college initials on it. He had gotten it for free at a College Fair, but he will be damned if he’s expected to actually look up the college and remember what the letters stand for.

He assumed that when she shrugged it meant she reached a point where she tapped out of socializing. It made sense, since she was at his house every day, and she’s never been the most social person. Frequently, she would blast music loud enough to drown out noise and zone out. She wouldn’t get grouchy if you talked to her during those periods - she just wouldn’t respond.

He eyed his friends that were already there. Bossuet was trying to help Joly onto the bus without anyone noticing that his entire left pants leg was wet. He must have stepped into a puddle that looked shallower than it was, the poor man. Joly looked like the cat that got the canary, and Grantaire can just tell he didn’t need help getting on the bus at all.

If Joly and Bossuet are here, then Musichetta must be here too. He spots her hair first - she has a lot of it, and it’s all out and proud today. She was sitting on the curb with Jehan, who was wearing an honest to god _waistcoat_ with a floral print and black jeans. They’re chatting, all smiley, with their legs splayed out and carefree.

“I’ll find someone to sit with.” He says, still scanning the crowd. She nodded and quietly boarded the bus.

He spots one of the tiny freshmen, standing on the sidewalk, clenching and unclenching the strap to her messenger bad. She was wearing a t-shift advertising the green club, and it was straight up adorable. It was the recycle logo but with a cute face and underneath it had their school name. She was carrying a book large enough that he could use it as a weapon, but not large in the way that all of Feuilly’s books are large. It’s wide and flat instead. He approached her with his hand in his pockets.

“Ready to save the environment?” He asked with pep. She jumped. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t scare me.” She said defensively.

“Good. I’ve never been good at the whole ‘being scary’ thing.” She smiled at him good humorously. “You still didn’t answer my question, though.”

“Oh, sorry. But uh, sure.”

“Wow. Didn’t know the green club was so noncommittal. How are we supposed to get the oil out of the sea if you aren’t even excited to plant flowers?” He teased.

She laughed nervously, but he could tell that he overstepped with the joking. She reminded him a bit of Jehan, when they had just met, and he was shy but friendly had obviously had no idea how to handle Grantaire until he started talking about politics and Grantaire let him talk, never stopping him until he had an actual point to contradict. It was then he was invited to join him for the ABC club.

“I was just joking.” He showed a toothy grin, which was a more crooked grin than his smirk could ever be, and asked “what’s your book about?”

“Oh!” She showed him the cover of the large book. _The Importance of Backgrounds_ with a Rembrandt painting on the cover. “It’s actually for one of my classes. Art 1, with Ms. Bourne.”

“Oh yeah, I have her for Art 4. You didn’t have to buy any book for that, you know.”

“I know!” She exclaimed slightly too loudly. “I just wanted to.”

He grinned again. “Alright. Explain to me about backgrounds.”

She gave him a confused glance, but when he was proven serious, she started talking. “Well, a lot of what I like about backgrounds is personal opinion. My own, of course.”

She got a look like she’s holding back from a rant, and at the slightest sort of pushback she would fall silent. When he just nodded, interested, she continued. “The background sometimes is there to just compliment what’s in the foreground, to make everything prettier, but I don’t really care about those kinds of backgrounds. I like it when the background enhances the emotion of the painting, and sometimes it has it’s own emotion that directly conflicts with what’s in the foreground, but then it just makes a better picture. To me, at least.”

Grantaire nodded. “I’m sitting next to you on the ride there.”

She smiled shyly, and Grantaire smiled toothily, and he made sure to get the window side in the middle of the bus. He didn’t want it to look out of though, he leaned his back on it and when she sat down next to him, he kicked out his legs and splayed them out on her lap.

“What’s your name, anyway?”

“Samantha.” She said, and didn’t complain about the legs covering her.

“Call me R. Or anything you want, really, as long as you keep talking about art.”

They talked for a few minutes, well, she talked, and he let her talk since he got the feeling that she didn’t get to talk about what she likes a lot. He only dropped out of the conversation a few times, but that’s to be expected. He made sure to reply frequently to keep his mind in focus.

He found out that if he leans his head towards the bus seat in front of his even slightly, he’s hidden from the people walking down the aisle. It’s perfect for people watching. He watched Courfeyrac drag Marius with him by his hand to the very back of the bus, with him babbling excitedly and Marius looking confused and happy. That’s his default emotion when he’s with them all, now that he thinks about it.

“You’re the best, Marius. Don’t let anyone tell you differently.” Grantaire yelled as they walked past, and they both jumped since it seemed like he just popped into existence.

“I fucking hate you.” Courfeyrac said.

“Thanks.” Marius said, meekly and quiet. They walked towards the back as Grantaire laughed at them. Samantha only looked a little lost.

“They’re really cool. You could get to know them actually, if you join the club we’re in.”

“I don’t know. . . “ she said, but Grantaire got distracted when he saw a blonde head flop down into the seat in front of him, with short black hair sitting next to him.

“I mean, he apparently can’t stand the idea of hanging out with me, so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do.”

Grantaire doesn’t make the connection, but instead just brings his head up over the divide and loudly greets “Hey guys!”

They both jump, and he laughs and says “I don’t know what the fuck happened today but I’m apparently the most terrifying motherfucker in this school.”

While his head is propped up, he sees Eponine sitting at the very front of the bus with Cosette. Cosette was talking fast, with a lot of hand movements, and Eponine was watching her with the perfectly composed face that looked bored but meant she was not any emotion close to bored. He turned his attention back to the topic at hand.

“This is a fluke, and will not happen again.” Combeferre says as he wipes his glasses on his shirt. His voice sounded so sure of that while his face was not on the same page. Enjolras, on the other hand, was still stuck in the chapter where he got scared and he looked at Grantaire with panicked eyes.

“Damn, I didn’t mean to like, scar you for life or anything.” He said. “I know what can make you feel better! I’m trying to convert this brilliant young woman to our cause and I feel like you’re a better repeater of political propaganda than I am and she can really use some right now.”

“Propaganda?” He asked, half like he wasn’t listening and half like he can’t believe what he wasn’t listening to. “We don’t do propaganda, Grantaire!”

“I thought you said your name was R?” Samantha asked.

“I go by many names.” Grantaire says. “But that’s not what’s important right now. Right now I want to demonstrate how angry I can get Enjolras in one bus ride.”

 

By the time they had arrived at the park Enjolras had resorted to angry silence three times, Combeferre tried to tell Samantha that this doesn’t happen regularly, and she shyly agreed to come to one of the meetings before rushing off of the bus and joining someone she knew from green club.

“Buddy system!” Courfeyrac yelled excitedly as he joined his spot in the trio.

Grantaire knew excitedly who he wanted to work with since they’re handling flowers. “Prouvaire!”

Jehan was walking off the steps to the bus when he whirled his head and looked at him with his big ol’ eyes. It made his fluffy auburn hair ruffle aggressively even though his face said nothing but friendly curiosity.

“We’re working together.” He told him in a way that meant there was little room for argument, but Jehan smiled in a way that meant he wasn’t going to argue anyway.

They got in an ordered but chaotic line to get their supplies and flowers to plant (they got Iris bulbs and their own section of dirt to plant it. The gloves, it turns out, were in limited supply) and they set to work.

“Make a hole a few inches deep and wide for the bulbs.” Jehan instructed when they found the perfect (picked for them) spot.

“Ooh, how _suggestive_ of you, my dear Jehan.” Grantaire batted his eyelashes at him.

Jehan blushed but shot back “I’m hoping you wouldn’t sell yourself as just a couple of inches.” all adorable but not uncomfortable with making sexually flirtatious comment at him.

“I’m only letting you think that because it’s cold out.” He teased back, but he did prepare a decently sized spot for the flower bulb. Jehan knew more about the basic needs of flowers than he did so he mostly listened and followed instructions. Whether it was on purpose or just a coincidence, it ended up being Grantaire almost exclusively working in the dirt while Jehan chatting about everything that came to mind. Birds, flower meanings, a bit of poetry, every cute person that he fell in and out of love with that week, Grantaire listened and worked.

“I’m mostly excited that these new flowers are going to attract more grandmas with breadcrumbs to the park.” Jehan says and delicately passes a bulb into Grantaire’s hands.

“Mmmhmm.” He murmurs while he makes sure he doesn’t pack the dirt too much, and thus not giving the flower any room to breathe.

“Of course, it will also attract a bunch of birds who are hungry for breadcrumbs. It will have a detrimental effect on the local species in the area to have so many birds, but I will love them and I just want them to know that.”

“Are Iris’ old lady flowers?” Grantaire asked.

“That’s not their personality trait, but they’re pretty and will attract a lot of people. Including grandmas with breadcrumbs.” Jehan says.

“What are the personality traits of Irises?” Grantaire is running out of room to plant the flowers, so he assumes he’s also running out of bulbs.

“Well Irises have a link to Greek mythology. Female messenger goddess of Hera. Goddess of the rainbow.”

“So she’s gay as fuck.” He nodded. “Respect.”

“I think Irises, as a flower, show the personality trait of confidence in the job or their skills, but maybe not confidence in other things.” Jehan says. “I think all flowers show some personality.”

“I can see that. I mean each flower has a meaning. I can’t be bothered to know any of them, but they got ‘em. Do you have a flower that matches you?”

He let out a wispy breath as he thought about it. “It’s hard to look at your personality on the outside, I think. Or at least it is for me.”

“I think you’re a sunflower.” He said, and it was kind of a lie. He didn’t think it but rather let the first thing his brain felt come out of his mouth.

“May I ask why?” He had a soft, eager smile on his face. He passed Grantaire another bulb.

“Uhhhhh, well. I don’t know any meaning to it but I know they’re like, all sunny and shit.”

“Really? I never would have guessed.”

“Shh, let me talk.” He held up a dirt encrusted finger. “Like, sunflowers are all big and showy, but they also physically turn towards the sun, so it’s like they have so much to them but they’re kinda sheepish about it. They’re also pretty and one of my best friends.”

Jehan blushed a deep red and he hugged Grantaire. “That’s so sweet and I love it and I love you, and please don’t get dirt on my waistcoat I just got it.”

“Why would you were something you didn’t want to get dirty to a gardening party?” But he complied and left his arms hanging in the air awkwardly.

“Oh yeah, another thing. We ran out of bulbs.” Jehan broke apart and shrugged, but still looked incredibly pleased.

“Well shit.” He looked around and saw a park of teenagers talking and laughing and having a grand old time, and not a single one of them look done. “Let’s go find one of our friends to bother.”

Rather quickly, they find Bahorel, Feuilly, and Eponine in a group of three where Feuilly looked to be the only one doing work. Eponine was laying on her back on the grass with one earphone in and Bahorel is sitting up, leaning his weight on his arms in front of him, elbows on his thighs and head in his hands.

Grantaire, without saying a word, slithered his way behind Bahorel and snaked his stick arms to cover Bahorel’s muscular ones. He fit himself in the crease of his back and whispered suggestively into his ear “Let me be your Patrick Swayze.”

“I have no idea what this is a reference to but holy shit I’m turned on.” Bahorel said, and the group devolved into loud laughter. Grantaire detached himself and rolled on the grass, holding his stomach as even Jehan was incapacitated with giggles.

By the time they had calmed down they had attracted the attention of many groups, and when Grantaire opened his eyes (when did he close them? Who the hell knows) he sees that Enjolras has approached them with his brown messenger bag and a clipboard, like he was put in charge of the students.

The last bit of laughter Grantaire was clinging to died as he stared up at Enjolras, at an angle and with watery eyes. He looked beautiful, as usual, but less untouchable. Like he could reach out and wrap an arm around him and not get pushed back. That feeling lasted for just a moment.

“It sounds like you guys are done?” He asked, but he didn’t sound like he was making a passive-aggressive comment trying to get them to get back to work. Maybe it was because it wasn’t directed at Grantaire.

“Not even close, since these freeloaders don’t like honest work.” Feuilly joked, and while Bahorel vocally defended himself and Eponine threw a fistful of grass at him, Jehan just sat next to him and help him work.

“Me and Jehan here finished early.” Grantaire said, still laying on his back. “I just really wanted to get up close and personal with Bahorel’s body.”

“And I’m not complaining.” He shrugged.

Enjolras just nodded. “If you’re done, you can wash your hand and wait until we start serving lunch. It’ll be within the hour I think.”

“Oh yeah, can’t wait for ice cold ham sandwiches with room temperature juice.” He said with fake enthusiasm. “I’m sure there are other people incredibly behind. I’ll probably join them before I call it quits.”

Enjolras just nodded, and didn’t have a look of surprise that Grantaire would choose to help around instead of taking a break (he appreciates it) and he says “Oh. Before I forget.” almost like it was on his mind the whole time and is just now bringing it up.

He brings Grantaire’s dark green beanie out of his messenger bag.

“Oh shit.” He brings up his arm to silently ask for it without getting up, and Enjolras puts it in his hand. “Thanks so much bro.” he held it up to his face. It smelt citrusy, vaguely of oranges, and much better than it did previously. He wonders if Enjolras used his usual laundry shit and if he smells like that as well.

“What did you say to me at one point?” Feuilly asked “’Miss me with that thanks bro shit’?”

Grantaire rolled his eyes and kept speaking to Enjolras. “I appreciate it a lot, and I would hug you but I know you’re not the most touchy person around.”

“Wait what?” Bahoral asked confused, when Enjolras just coughed loudly and excused himself. “Enjolras is almost as cuddly with you when he gets in the mood.”

“Well, I guess I was just never there for it.” Grantaire said and finally stood up. He put his beanie on lower than usual, as if the smell would rub off on him. “I’m going to go check on lover boy.”

He didn’t need to look around to know that Marius and Cosette were behind, since they would each distract each other by whatever they like to talk about together. When he walked up to them, it was cheetahs.

“Did you know that cheetahs are often so nervous that their handlers assign them support dogs?” Marius was asking when Grantaire walked up.

“I hope that’s as cute as it sounds, because I’m going to be joining you guys for a while.” He says as he plops down next to Cosette, as in her personal space. He notices that they have exactly one (1) bulb planted.

Marius was caught off-guard at the interruption, but he wasn’t going to complain when Grantaire immediately started getting to work. He also looked unsure on how he felt by how close he and Cosette were, and he just chalks it up to Marius not knowing what he feels most of the time. He puts him at ease by grabbing one of his hands and placing a smooch on it. “I still love you too, with the passion of at least one hundred fires.”

“Well I love him with the passion of one hundred and one fires.” Cosette says.

“Oh shit, you ain’t playing today.” Grantaire teases, and he does not notice the any lingering eyes on him from far away in the park, and if he did he wouldn’t know what it really means.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love every comment u could give me also ty for reading!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> RRRR: my ginger husband whom i love lots next time we see each other remind me to kiss at least one (1) freckle
> 
> letmariussayfuck: or u could buy me another coffee if that would be easier
> 
> RRRR: it would not
> 
> Enjolgay: Oh hey I think I’ve been spending a lot more time in the sun than usual because I have found more freckles on the bridge of my nose than before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Thanksgiving! I'm trying to update once a week since I never have class on Thursdays. 
> 
> ItsmeMarius - Marius  
> Comb - Combeferre  
> cootiepatootie - Courfeyrac  
> stopignoringme - Feuilly  
> Cassettetape - Cosette  
> LoveThoseBooks - Jehan  
> ballisnoylyfe - Bahorel  
> SpaceCat - Joly  
> Enjolgay - Enjolras

Whenever he’s given a moment of silence, his brain keeps lulling back to what Jehan told him. When he washes his hands with a hose weakly spraying ice-cold water, he thought of flowers. When he accepts his school provided lunch, he thought of personality hidden in the petals. When he pretended to hate the juice so he could give it to Bossuet who was forgotten about, he thought of mythology and stories all associated with foliage.

When he saw Eponine again he walked behind her, sneaking his hands into her/his hoodie pockets, but he couldn’t stop thinking about flowers.

Eponine took her normal seat not even considering giving him back his headphones, and he asked Joly “I know you brought a notebook with you, I need to bum some paper and a pencil.”

“Printer or lined?” He asked.

“You got printer paper? Joly you’re the best.” Grantaire turned to Musichetta who was just getting on. “If you don’t propose to him, I will.”

“Are you paying for a ring?”

“Hell no.”

“Wow!” Joly exclaimed, feigning shock. “I guess I won’t give you any paper, if you’re not going to make an honest man out of me.”

“Alright, let’s meet in the middle here.” He slid into one of the seats to get out of the middle of the aisle. “In a few months, I’ll sneak back into the park and make a bouquet of flowers with the ones we just planted. It’ll be romantic and symbolic and shit, since I planted them.”

“Counter-offer.” Musichetta raised a finger. “You can touch my boobs.”

Grantaire clicked his tongue. “Can’t compete with that. But I still want some paper from you.”

He handed a hefty handful of printer paper over and a mechanical pencil and Grantaire took his hand and gave him a kiss on the palm for a thank you, before sitting down and starting sketching. He put the paper up to the glass window and despite the odd angle and struggling against the movement when they started driving, he was able to put out many rough sketches of flowers in late stages, random petals, sloppy handwriting off in the corners.

Conversation happened around him but he didn’t take notice, lost in a tide of inspiration that he was desperate to hit.

By the time they got back to the school their last period had 30 minutes left, he filled out 3 pages front and back, and a freshman boy had tripped and accidentally punched Bossuet in the balls. His luck had turned around slightly as he was allowed to leave the bus first and he took it in stride, limping but grinning, eyes and head equally shiny.

“You heading back to class?” Eponine asked, her face is back into the Purposefully Bored To Hide Real Interest expression she had on earlier, so he assumes she sat with Cosette again.

“I’ll still be counted as absent even if I do.” Grantaire said. “Probably not.”

She nodded. “I got too many days against me. I’ll see you at the house.”

“With or without Gavroche?”

“Probably without.” And she used that as a conversation ender.

Grantaire made sure to grab his sketchbook from his locker before he went directly to the senior bathroom. He sat on the toilet and smoke to distract himself from the weird smell and he redid the shit drawings he did on the bus. He would love to say that he’s a much better artist when he’s not in a movie vehicle filled with rowdy teens, but he can’t tell the difference honestly.

 

Once he was safely back into his bedroom, Eponine grabbed his sketchbook wordlessly and pilfered through it. “What’s this supposed to be?”

He glanced at it from where he was laying half on his bed and half on the floor. “A fully-bloomed rose.”

“Did you use a reference?”

“No.”

“Use one next time.” She said flipped to a new page. “It looks like iceberg lettuce.”

“Wow, that’s so rude - “He started to say, but he slipped, and his head hit the floor as his slid bonelessly to contour horribly into a slug like position, where his back cracked loudly at least 7 times. His body slumped into one heap on the floor. He didn’t move for many minutes.

Eponine payed little mind to this, instead just wrote notes between his sketches that he will read and appreciate later.

“I’m so scared to move.” Grantaire said, face muffled in the carpet. “If I move I may break my spine even more and never get to dance again.”

“If you broke your spine then you would be a lot more obnoxious than usual.” Eponine said, not looking up.

“I would be dead. I’m already dead. You’re talking to a ghost that can’t move.” He slowly reached back onto his bed to drag his phone back to him because he was serious when he said he was afraid to move. He needs something to do to pass the time. He opened the groupchat.

**ItsmeMarius:** :) guess who :) made a :) surprise visit :) to my home :) where I live :) while I was at school :)

**Comb:** Oh no.

**cootiepatootie:** beyonce??? hopefully

**ItsmeMarius:** [posted a picture]

It’s of a red, old pickup truck with a weird portrait of an American flag in the back window covered in black text that Grantaire can’t read. It’s probably best that he doesn’t read it, he assumes it would just make his stomach acid dissolve instantly and give him heartburn.

**ItsmeMarius:** this is the Worst

**stopignoringme:** oh shit im so srry my love

**ItsmeMarius:** my grandfather is in town and this is the Worst

**ItsmeMarius:** ive been standing outside texting u guys instead of going in bc this is the Worst

**Cassettetape:** honestly it might be better if u stay outside

**ItmeMarius:** but my guinea pig misses me

**stopignoringme:** brownie doesnt deserve to be left along with a bigoted old man by himself I understand

**RRRR:** fucikng iikil himm

**cootiepatootie:** what did u just say at me?

**RRRR:** on groun,d,,,,,,weidr posiition,,,,odd angle

**LoveThoseBooks:** can u get up? are u stuck?

**RRRR:** I refuse

**LoveThoseBooks:** ah so I don’t have to worry about u

**RRRR:** I love yoru love 4 me

**LoveThoseBooks:** I love u lots <3

**stopignoringme:** jehan is made of love and bad (beautiful) sweaters

**Comb:** Accurate.

**LoveThoseBooks:** dawww u guys are the best <3 <3 <3

**Cassettetape:** marius my love u have been gone for minutes we need updates

**cootiepatootie:** yeah come back!!!!!!!!

**ballisnotlyfe:** hopefully hes come back in town bc he was craving an ass kicking

**RRRR:** come to tihs location in 5 mins for asss kicking

**SpaceCat:** [posted a picture of himself in sunglasses]

**SpaceCat:** come to marius’ house in next 25 mins if u want an ass kicking

**ballisnotlyfe:** u sexy beast ty for the selfie

**RRRR:** y r u wearing sunglassses indoor?s

**SpaceCat:** I have to be prepared so I can fight marius’ gpa

**RRRR:** same

**ballisnotlyfe:** same

**ItsmeMarius:** :)

**Casettetape:** oh g-d what did he do?

**ItsmeMarius:** I just think its funny how he pops into my life at random and incovient moments just to voice his trash opinions on things about me

**ItmeMarius:** at the mo: he thinks skinny jeans make me look Too Skinny and “not manly enough”

**Comb:** Fuck him.

**stopignoringme:** were those the exact words he used?

**ItsmeMarius:** :)

**stopignoringme:** I dont rlly want to know actually

**ItsmeMarius:** ive retreated into my room to pet brownie, most likely forever

**cootiepatootie:** ive thought of the perfect solution:

**cootiepatootie:** sleepover!!!!!

**cootiepatootie:** at my place of course

**ItsmeMarius:** youre ok with that?

**cootiepatootie:** Marius honey

**cootiepatootie:** Sweetheart

**cootiepatootie:** u clean when u get anxious why wouldn’t I be?

**stopignoringme:** what no marius come over to my house for the weekend i can offer orange juice in this trying time

**cootiepatootie:** I offered first!!! stop trying to take advantage of our dear friend’s adorable habit in, as u stated previously, this stressful time

**stopignoringme:** oh shit I did not mean to come across that way marius I love u and u can do whatever u want no stress

**ItsmeMarius:** >///< youre so nice I love u guys

**Casettetape:** we love u too <3

**LoveThoseBooks:** <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

**ItsmeMarius:** courf can I bring brownie?

**cootiepatootie:** I would be offended and sad if u didn’t

**ItsmeMarius:** ok ill tell my parents that they gave me permission days ago for this and ill start packing in 30 minutes ill be over to sleep with u

**RRRR:** what

**cootiepatootie:** slow down there pal

**stopignoringme:** wow now Im rlly sad that youre not coming to mine

**ItsmeMarius:** not what I meant!!!! that’s not what I meant!!!!!!

**Cassettetape:** courfeyrac u know that this means right

**Cassettetape:** we have to fight now. my honor is on the line.

**cootiepatootie:** Weehawken. Dawn. Guns. Drawn.

**Cassettetape:** You’re on.

**ballisnotlyfe:** marius I thought if u were ever going to sleep with a male friend it would be me first

**ItsmeMarius:** I never agreed to that and any contract stating otherwise is invalid because Reasons. Ok otw.

Eponine threw his sketchbook in front of his face, where he was still in his lump, and said “Done.”

“You’re the best.” He saw the pages he drew on filled with tiny, scrunched up handwriting no doubt sarcastically helping him artistically. Before he read anything, he heard the door open.

“I’m home!” His mom called throughout the house, before he heard her move to the bottom of the staircase “There are bags!”

Eponine went down the stairs first, not even looking in the direction of Grantaire. Not even considering offering a helping hand. He had to stand up on his own, significantly less broken than he assumed he was but still cracking loud enough that it should be worrying, and he slowly made his way down the stairs.   

His mother smiled excitedly at him. Her arms were weighed down in multiple shopping bags with Eponine nowhere in the room he assumed she went off to the car to get the rest. “I went grocery shopping!”

He smiles back at her and grabs a few of the bags and starts sorting through them. A few cartons of juice, frozen pizzas, another family-sized box of rice crispies. All of the bags being filled with actual food, but food of a teenager or a divorced dad that never learned to cook for himself.

The bags that Eponine brought it (all in one trip because she’s a dream) are slightly more disappointing. Less snacks and many, many shirts.

“I thought you would like those.” She started putting away the frozen dishes while fidgeting with them nervously. The shirts were all different type of pride shirts, with catchy sayings and bright patterns and it’s all beautifully mass-marketed and kind of touching. “They were on sale, and it made me think of your club. I’m not sure what they do but the way you talk about them, I figured they might like this.”

“You talk about the ABC to your mom?” Eponine asked, not at all out of breath. “You nerd.”

He unfurled one that said ‘Bi Bi Bi Pride!’ in pink, purple, and blue cursive print. “I love it.” He said honestly, because he did, but he finished it with “I wish you didn’t get so many.”

“Well, I didn’t know how many kids were in your club, so I just grabbed them all.” She said sheepishly.

“I know they’ll love it, and have some extras.” He almost joked. “I also kinda wish we got some real food.”

“I can go tomorrow.” Eponine offered quickly. She never liked criticizing an adult figure that she relied on. “I found a recipe I could try out.”

“Oh right, I didn’t think about that.” His mom said.

“It’s okay.” He says even though he probably should say _we don’t have the money for this_ or anything else that someone more qualified than a teenager to help an adult learn to adult.

He suddenly feels very tired. Eponine saw that and wordlessly took over to sort out the stuff that they were going to keep and the stuff she will have to return tomorrow and he goes up and lays in bed. He doesn’t want to go to sleep at 4 in the afternoon because what responsible goes to sleep when the sun is just starting to consider setting? So he opens the group chat again.

**cootiepatootie:** [posted a video]

[Zoom in to a black, brown, and white guinea pig sitting on Courfeyrac’s shoulders, snuggled into his brown curls, as in the background you can hear Marius loudly complain. “He’s just so fucking awful I hate him.” Courfeyrac pets the pig as it squeaks happily. “He always wants to talk about politics and he’s so fucking in love with Donald McRacist -“]

**ballisnotlyfe:** MARIUS CURSES????

**stopignoringme:** hearing marius say fuck was literally so surprising I think I had an heart attack

                **stopignoringme** changed their name to **letmariussayfuck**

**RRRR:** i never knew guineas made so much noise

**Comb:** They squeak when they’re happy.

**RRRR:** hes loud af

**Comb:** Not really?

**RRRR:** ive never heard anything louder in my life

**ballisnotlyfe:** R U JUST GOING TO IGNORE THAT MARIUS SAID FUCK

**Enjolgay:** Looks like it

**Enjolgay:** Also he deserves to curse when he’s talking about his granddad hes a morally bankrupt senior that talks bad about marius whos lovely and needs better family members

**RRRR:** granddad

**Enjolgay:**?

**RRRR:** nah im just unused to hearing u say like words so casual its like ‘nah mate i gots to go to me granddads’ and imagining u say that w ur voice is funny to me

**letmariussayfuck:** what do u usually hear when he talks

**RRRR:** come here my comrades we must Take Arms to fix the WORLD

**Enjolgay:** I would love to say I haven’t used the word comrade unironically but. . .

**RRRR:** that’s literally the best thing ive ever heard and i hope ur serious bc i needed that rn

**Enjolgay:** :)

**RRRR:** im just so dang sleepy

**Enjolgay:** Its like five in the afternoon?

**RRRR:** youre just so talented im proud of u for knowing that

**letmariussayfuck:** how tired r u rn?

**RRRR:** yes

**RRRR:** also ilu so much Feuilly

**RRRR:** my ginger husband whom i love lots next time we see each other remind me to kiss at least one (1) freckle

**letmariussayfuck:** or u could buy me another coffee if that would be easier

**RRRR:** it would not

**Enjolgay:** Oh hey I think I’ve been spending a lot more time in the sun than usual because I have found more freckles on the bridge of my nose than before.

**cootiepatootie:** Marius took Brownie from me at exactly the right time this is actually the best thing Ive read in my life

**Enjolgay:** I’m just making conversation

**letmariussayfuck:** this is a conversation I don’t think I should be in

**RRRR:** i actually have not noticed that before ever not ever with my eyes i promise but ty for telling me this

**ballisnotlyfe:** I need an adult

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ty for reading! If you loved it, comment?


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He’s pretty sure he had a dream about Eponine wearing a dark purple dress that was actually just a rose in full bloom, but when he commented that it looked nice she looked him in the eyes and said, “Roses have been considered a symbol of femininity and romance despite the fact that not every rose means the same thing. Still, I reject any notion that paints me in a light that is available to any straight man that performs the minimum.” and punched him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! It's Thursday so new chapter! It's later than what I planned because I kept getting distracted by the new animal crossing. Also if it feels slower paced than the other chapters, I felt it too, but after this I should be at a point where he starts making art and I'm excited about it! That's where my focus is anyway - him making a bunch of art. 
> 
> Sorry if there are any mistakes, I am my own Beta. 
> 
> Comb - Combeferre  
> cootiepatootie - Courfeyrac  
> Enjolgay - Enjolras  
> letmariussayfuck - Feuilly  
> LoveThoseBooks - Jehan

He eventually nodded off staring at his phone, but his sleep was neither restful or peaceful. He regained consciousness a few times, blearily looking at Eponine mute the TV as she plays her game silently, hours later hearing her on the phone ‘Hey, how’re doing at this whoever’s house? How are his parents?’, until he woke up for the last time when the sun was starting to creep up and his morning breath tasted like Death.

Eponine was already gone (he sent a ‘good morning goth wife’ to make sure she just had stuff to do and that he shouldn’t worry till he got an ulcer) and the house was quiet.

His mom was already gone for work and the house was very quiet.

His mind was anything but quiet.

He’s pretty sure he had a dream about Eponine wearing a dark purple dress that was actually just a rose in full bloom, but when he commented that it looked nice she looked him in the eyes and said, “Roses have been considered a symbol of femininity and romance despite the fact that not every rose means the same thing. Still, I reject any notion that paints me in a light that is available to any straight man that performs the minimum.” and punched him.

Jesus, he needs to get out of the house.

 

He dumps his backpack out of school stuff and shoves in his sketchbook, a random handful of pencils, multiple eraser nubs, all from his room. A few things from the garage, like a small canvas (slightly larger than a notebook), some tubes of acrylic paint, paper plates, brushes, and on impulse he grabbed some spray cans that are sitting on one of the many shelves they have.

On another impulse he set them down and picked up ones labeled ‘non-toxic, low odor’ because if he’s going to use it in public, he’s not going to fuck up everyone’s lungs.

He also grabbed some Halloween themed stencils since they looked just plain cool.

He left and he let his mind drive his van and he was not at all surprised that he ended up back at the park, since that’s where his soul just wants to be. He is surprised that he didn’t question how much spray paint he had in his garage until he let his mind wander - things can quickly accumulate if you don’t keep track of them, including spray paint cans. They breed like rabbits, those cans.

It was unexpectedly warm for the beginning of fall. He found a spot under a tree, started playing music on his phone loud enough for him to enjoy and people only invading his personal space can complain about.

You know what music is best for art making? Vaporwave. Macintosh never sounded so good.

First step: he asks himself what he’s making. He’s making the vague art project that is connected to a rose. What about a rose that he keeps thinking about it? Well, their seen as delicate, feminine flowers - once they’ve been picked and presented in a certain way.

Naturally, they show off these soft petals while being covered in thorns that will not hesitate to hurt you.

He thinks of Eponine, who’s always had long hair that she never wears up, who loves dresses even though she gives off the impression that she wouldn’t. Eponine, who paints her nails on the hand that’s still bruised when she punched some guy in the face when he didn’t keep his hands to himself.

Okay, so the rose is for Eponine. Good. Got that settled. He should probably make a background before he puts anything in the foreground, and if it’s for Eponine he can go ahead and put down a dark purple. It’s her color.

The rhythmic pattern of putting an even coating of paint is so monotonous that it’s kind of - relaxing? While he’s doing it he feels like his brain quiets down, just a little bit, and he feels an end to the prickling feeling underneath his skin that was so subtly he didn’t know it was there to begin with. He feels productive.

It doesn’t last long enough in his opinion, and he eventually is left waiting for it to dry so he can keep being productive. He has about ten minutes to kill.

He unlocks his phone.

The first message he sees is Eponine’s ‘I walked to the store and picked up gavorche. will be home soon.’ before he moved on to the group.

**Comb:** Hey Enjolras can I stop by your house later today?

**cootiepatootie:** hey ferre this is the groupchat

**Comb:** Enjolras responds faster to the group chat than a private message.

**Enjolgay:** Yeah I’m not there right now though.

**Enjolgay:** Actually I changed my mind the answer is no.

**cootiepatootie:** lmao

**letmariussayfuck:** he learned this from u courf

**cootiepatootie:** WHAT i didn’t do anything

**Comb:** Wait where are you?

**LoveThoseBooks:** he totally learned that from u courf that was Petty

**cootiepatootie:** WOWW I enter the chat expecting to find friends but all I see are enemies

**Enjolgay:** I’m on a walk my friend.

**RRRR:** it was a typo he meant pretty

**cootiepatootie:** thank you!!!

**LoveThoseBooks:** 100% correct my bad

**letmariussayfuck:** if it were anymore correct than that would me enj learned how to be pretty from courf too

**RRRR:** it all makes sense……..

**Enjolgay:** That is incredibly sweet of you Courfeyrac

**Enjolgay:** Teaching me so much about what I don’t know

**Enjolgay:** And also thank you Feuilly for calling me pretty I appreciate that

**cootiepatootie:** yeah but im prettier right

**RRRR:** girls girls stop fighting

**RRRR:** jehans the prettiest

**letmariussayfuck:** plot twist

**LoveThoseBooks:** awwwwwwww

**cootiepatootie:** gdi I cant argue with that look at jehan

**LoveThoseBooks:** ******* kisses for all *******

**Enjolgay:** Hey Grantaire?

**RRRR:** oh fuck what did I do this time?

**Enjolgay:** Are you at the park?

**RRRR:** 1 of all: am I not allowed to be?

**cootiepatootie:** 1 of all…

**RRRR:** 2 of all: r u stalking me?

**Enjolgay:** Are you sitting under a tree with a bunch of stuff in front of you?

**RRRR:** someone call 911

**cootiepatootie:** wtf Enjolras this is getting weird

**Enjolgay:** An explanation: I’m at the park now and I think I see you from the entrance but I don’t want to find myself in a situation where I walk up to someone who just so happens to be you.

 

Grantaire looked up and towards the entrance and he saw someone casually wave at him. He waved back, only a little bit in shock, and Enjolras took that as affirmation that this was indeed Grantaire and not a complete stranger. Grantaire watched him as he approached.

Enjolras has a skill where he can wear a t-shirt and jeans and look amazing. His hair was up in a ponytail and a few strays were framing his face and it shouldn’t be distracting to Grantaire, but it is. He also looks at Enjolras’ few freckles and if any of them are new since he last looked than he must be getting rusty at this Notice How Attractive Enjolras Is thing.

“Hey,” Enjolras greeted him, standing in front of the sunlight because apparently Grantaire doesn’t need eyes.

“Hey,” He copies him because his brain isn’t thinking and Enjolras wouldn’t lead him astray, probably.

It’s awkward for a second. Grantaire doesn’t move as Enjolras shoves his hands in his pockets.

Finally, Enjolras speaks again. “Can I sit with you?”

“There’s enough grass for everyone.” He says instead of yes or no. Enjolras, apparently, really needs a yes or no since he hesitated in doing anything. “Yes, you can sit here.”

Enjolras sits. Grantaire tests the canvas to see if it’s dry by gently tapping it all over, and there’s a sufficiently awkward cover to all of this. Enjolras isn’t exactly close but he’s closer than they usual sit and Grantaire feels like he should be aware of everything he’s doing but he’s not. Grantaire’s weird music is still playing softly in the background but he feels like if he turns it off it would just bring attention to how uncomfortable this is.

The canvas is dry though. He brings out black spray paint.

“Are you going to use that?” Enjolras asks incredulously when he pops the top off.

“No, I’m going to drink it.”

Enjolras looked strained. “You shouldn’t use it in a public place where just anyone can walk by.”

“It’s non-toxic.” Grantaire defends himself, because hey, he’s not the most considerate guy but he literally did think about this before he left the house and it’s a little bit insulting that he just assumes that he didn’t. “It almost can be considered for children. It’s what street performers use.”

Enjolras just nods. Grantaire shakes the can and prepares to use it. It’s awkward.

He focuses back on the art. He wants to just use a line at the very top, but move his hand just slowly across so it drips down and creates a really cool look - he’s still thinking of Eponine. The look connects to her because in his mind, it creates a message someone who partially covers up what they’re feeling all the time but it just ends up mixing together so no one knows what is or isn’t a coverup, they just know who she is.

“What are you making?” Enjolras asks.

“Something for school.” Grantaire regrets responding a little bit because even though it’s as safe as spray paint is going to be, it still isn’t the best idea to talk while your face is all up close to it.

Enjolras falls silent again. This has the feeling of small talk done by two people who are vaguely aware of the notion of small talk and they’re both tremendously lost.

“I feel like you have something more important to say.” Grantaire lets slip, because by god his phone is spewing out autotuned Japanese words to the tune of a phone ringing and he just lets slip _something_ to get Enjolras talking about something important. If he does, then Grantaire will know how to counter it and they can have an argument like they usually do.

He regrets that too because he didn’t move any farther away and if Joly were here he would be worried on behalf of Grantaire’s health. He coughed up a storm.

“I just - “ Enjolras starts. “I just noticed that you aren’t - we aren’t as close with each other than with everyone else. I wasn’t going to bring it up today - “

“Oh so this isn’t why you stalked me in the park on this beautiful morning?” Grantaire finally finished his one strip and thank goodness.

“This was a coincidence. I didn’t know you would be here!” Enjolras exclaims, and of course Grantaire has to believe him. Even if he did have a reason to not believe Enjolras, he would still believe him. “I just figured while we’re both here, we can talk.”

“Huh.” Is all he could say as he tips the canvas to make it drip more.

“We’re friends, I figured we can find something to talk about.” And there’s a silent question in how he said ‘we’re friends’. Like he was asking for confirmation to the fact. Or like he was asking himself if he really was friends with this guy or he just wants to be nice to him because he shows up to all the meetings and is friends with his friends.

Grantaire ignores the question for fear of what it was really asking, and says “Well, while this is drying, let me hear some of your music so I can make fun of it, since it won’t be as cool as music made from a Nokia ringtone.”

 

 

Talking to Enjolras about anything always ends up leading back to politics, but it was nice. It got significantly less awkward, and he did indeed make fun of his music selection (“Recently I’ve been listening to Courfeyrac’s music, so it’s a lot of showtunes.” “Yeah, but I see you still listen to Fall Out Boy outside of 2009.” “They make good music!”)

He did still get a text from Eponine (‘I need your help with dinner come home’) and they said their goodbyes.

Enjolras moved to go back to his book which he opened but hasn’t read since he sat down, and Grantaire was going to get up and leave with just a wave, but he had a thought. Enjolras is apparently bothered by the difference in treatment, so much that he was willing to spend time with Grantaire outside the club.

Well, following his instincts hasn’t steered him wrong yet today, so when he got the instinct to wrap his arm around Enjolras’ shoulder’s to give him a half hug before leaving, he did. He left very quickly after that because wow did that feel like the wrong thing to do and also _he smells so much like oranges._

He’s glad that the ride home took long enough that the blush was faded and it just looked like he’s been out and about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realized I never shared my tumblr before,,,,,,,,,, http://httpsawesome.tumblr.com/   
> follow me there if you want to talk to me!  
> Ty for reading!


End file.
